


joyride

by tanyart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Buffoonery, M/M, Tight Spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Genji tries to pilot Meka.





	joyride

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a joke. And it's _still_ a joke, but now an unnecessarily long one.

Genji stares up at Meka. It doesn't look very intimidating. It’s got blubbly promo stickers and bunny ears and a pair of bright pink cannon blasters. It’s _cute_ , not scary. He’s ridden on top of Meka before. Being inside should be easier in theory.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

Even Lena, as optimistic and cheery as she is, throws him a skeptical look from the pilot’s seat of their dropship. “You sure?”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Genji says. “The longer I deliberate, the more danger D.Va will be in. We’ve got to get Meka to her. Fear is nothing.”

McCree leans forward, the straps of his seat holding him back from getting closer to Genji. His voice comes out amused. “You scared?”

Genji scowls. Unbelievable that McCree had to come with them. He suspects McCree had volunteered to tag along solely to mock him. That, and to be the back-up their small team needs to extract D.Va from her current position in Talon territory.

“No. I never said that,” Genji says, unclipping his seatbelt. He stands up, walking around Meka to open the back hatch that he’s seen D.Va do several times. Much to his relief, the hatch opens without smashing him to the floor. After a cautious touch on one of the grab bars, he starts crawling in. “I’m not afraid. You see? I’m getting in. No problems.”

He can practically feel McCree grinning behind him.

“Fantastic,” says Lena as the dropship starts to slow. “Now your turn, McCree. Then we’ll be clear for cargo drop.”

“What,” says McCree.

“Get in with Genji.”

“What,” says Genji, already staring down at the Meka’s controls in despair.

“ _What_ ,” McCree repeats.

Lena pauses, confused. “I thought the plan was for you to be Genji’s back-up? Meka can fit two, I’m sure. She’s a big ol’ gal.”

McCree’s dead silence seems to be in pure disagreement. Genji cannot decide if he wants to have his revenge by encouraging McCree to go with him or suffer a freefall with another body in a tiny compartment designed for a single pilot.

“Was there a miscommunication?” Lena asks, her normally chirpy voice turning stern. “Tell me now, boys, or forever hold your peace. I’m dropping Meka in three no matter what.”

McCree lets out a disgusted groan and unclips his belt.

 

* * *

 

It’s not a good fit. In order for Genji to hold the controls he has to hunker down over the panel, helmet occasionally bumping against the console. He doesn’t understand how D.Va can lay on her stomach with ease, much less lay down with another body squeezing in on top. McCree, while not too heavy, takes up a lot of room in the cockpit and restricts much of Genji’s arms for steering. As if Genji doesn’t have enough problems with _that_.

Luckily, there isn’t much piloting to be done when dropping a Meka to a location. A satellite should have been able to allow D.Va to summon another without needing any human intervention, but an EMP and GPS scrambler had left Overwatch with little choice but to manually send a Meka themselves. Genji’s main concern is dropping within Talon lines and not being able to pinpoint D.Va’s exact location. He supposes it’s why Winston had chosen him to drop in, cause a lot of noise, and buy time for D.Va to get into her ship.

He just hadn’t counted on McCree coming along for the ride.

“Alright, gentlemen, you two comfy?” Lena asks over the voice comm.

“I’d say snug,” McCree says, shifting. His thighs bracket both sides of Genji in a rather unfortunate position. He makes as much space as he can between them so that Genji can move the controls. “But not comfy.”

“True. We’re usually positioned the other way around,” Genji says off the comm. They might as well get the jokes out of their system now.

McCree lets his full weight press down, squishing Genji into the controls. “And y’ain’t gonna have it any time soon if you keep that bullshit up.”

Genji makes a zipping motion in front of his faceplate, pressing numerous buttons on accident as he does. Thankfully, Meka is offline for the time being.

Lena’s voice fizzes into their headsets. “Gosh, that was an awkward long silence. No hanky panky in the mech,” she says, “Alright, I’m releasing in 10, 9—”

She starts a countdown, and Genji watches as the dropship’s door opens up to a cloudy night sky. McCree peers over his shoulder, arm coming around Genji’s front.

“Genji,” McCree begins, wiggling over his back. One hand pats down Genji’s spine, too brief to be suggestive.

“Lena said no hanky panky in the mech,” Genji reminds anyway.

“Oh, you’re cute,” McCree says dryly. From the reflection in the screen, Genji can see him looking around. “Don’t wanna nag, but I’m just wonderin’ where your swords are.”

“They wouldn’t fit,” Genji replies, remembering he had set them aside before entering the cockpit. With the minor anxiety of piloting and having McCree unexpectedly join in for the ride, he had forgotten to find a way to strap his weapons to Meka. He sits up on his elbows, alarmed, and causes McCree to jostle against the low ceiling. “ _Damn—_ ”

“Oomf,” McCree grunts over the clinky-clack sound of buttons being pressed. The entire Meka shudders and he reaches to the side to stabilize himself. Genji can feel McCree hitch down by an unnatural fraction, almost as if he had grabbed and pulled a lever. “Shit. I think I might’ve done something _bad_ -”

There isn’t enough time to ask _how bad_ , but the answer becomes very clear when the front green port window pops open and a gush of air blows them further back into the cockpit.

“Good luck, pilots,” Lena says, oblivious over the comms.

To their professional credit, both McCree and Genji don’t scream. They do, however, grab onto each other as Meka plummets from the dropship.

And then it’s just a very long way down after.

 

* * *

 

 

Meka lands in the middle of Talon’s industrial park in a cloud of dust that is neither silent nor subtle. Talon forces start to emerge from from several buildings, converging warily around them. Still, upon discovering that he had indeed survived, Genji jolts out of his impromptu meditation session with a fresher appreciation for life. The interior of the mech sports a new crumbled sort of look, the dents in the controls making it clear where either he or McCree had held on for their lives.

“You okay?” he asks McCree, twisting around to face him. He doesn’t mention that McCree’s mechanical hand gripping his shoulder might cost Genji a new upper arm.

After a moment of silence, McCree detaches himself from Genji—arms, legs, and all. He pulls the same lever to their side. The front window shuts with a click, leaving them in the enclosed safety of the cockpit once more. Somehow, Genji can’t find it in him to complain about the small space anymore.

“Just peachy,” McCree says, looking thoroughly windblown despite his hat’s uncanny ability to stay on his head. He calmly pulls out a whiskey flask from under his serape. “Give me a sec.”

Genji very gently pushes the flask back into McCree’s pocket, and then the cigar McCree attempts to swap it out for. He pats McCree’s hand in sympathy. Genji would say they have been in worse situations in Blackwatch, but McCree settles back at his touch, looking as if he’s compartmentalizing for now with a blank look in his eyes.

“I would hate to interrupt you suppressing a new trauma but—” Genji begins, pressing McCree’s face between his hands as the sound of gunfire starts to patter over Meka, “—we’ve alerted the entire base.”

McCree blinks. “Oh, I ain’t suppressing nothin’, sugar. Just preparing my strongly worded rant for afterwards.”

Genji smiles, giving McCree’s cheek a fond pat and turning back around. “Fair enough,” he says, and grips the—he tries to find a better term, but he cannot— _joysticks_. A part of him wants to compare it to driving a stickshift but, to his dismay, it is only exactly and precisely like the arcade games he used to play as a child, which is not as impressive. He should have expected it, considering Meka’s pilot.

(Not that he’s bitter or anything. They were only arcade scores.)

“Just like video games,” he mutters.

“That’s _not_ something I want to hear,” McCree says above him and sucks in a breath when Genji hits the controls to boost forward.

They run over a few Talon soldiers with a level of ease that makes Genji a little jealous. The industrial park leaves plenty of room for him to maneuver, though the scattered shipping containers and junk piles provide plenty of hiding spots for the Talon soldiers. Meka’s weapons aren’t made for accuracy, he knows, but it still grates on his nerves when he punches the button for missiles and not a single one lands on anything worth firing at.

“Aw,” McCree says while the missiles go veering off into the distance. “Good try.”

Feeling incredibly embarrassed, Genji tries the fusion cannons. He fires for what feels like a long time at a group of screaming Talon agents, but no one seems to fall over dead despite the steady stream of bullets. All the targets are so _tiny_ through Meka’s screen, and Meka is just so _slow—_

He ends up boosting through a single Talon soldier out of sheer frustration. Even running someone over doesn’t accomplish much except make McCree jostle over him. By then the novelty of McCree wrapping his arms around Genji and pressing close has worn off. McCree’s grip on him is in danger of breaking circuits at this point.

“This is foolish,” he decides, stomping Meka around in a half circle after he runs them into a wall. Meka’s diagnostics flash a warning notification for excessive damage. “I dislike these cannons. We need to find D.Va before I destroy Meka myself.”

With Talon converging all over them by the dozen, he doubts D.Va would risk coming into their immediate area. Knowing her, she would be keeping a low profile to not compromise her position, but surely she should have heard all the noise by now. He hopes she did, and he also hopes she’s not doubled over somewhere, laughing and watching him wreck an expensive piece of weaponry owned by the Korean military.

But right now, the only recourse they have is to get rid of enough Talon soldiers for D.Va to reach them, laughing or not.

Coming to the same conclusion, McCree lifts his chin from Genji’s shoulder. “I have an idea.”

“By all means,” Genji says, weaving through Talon’s sporadic gunfire. If anything, his reckless driving is making them hard to hit. All he needs now is a horn.

“Let me shoot,” McCree says, shuffling behind Genji.

Genji almost stops Meka. He doesn’t, but the temptation to give McCree a look of disbelief is immense. “You’re free to try, but can you even reach over to the controls?”

“What?” McCree says, still moving his arms around, “Controls? Oh, you mean shoot with the mech? No, no, no. Hell no, I wouldn’t even know where to start—”

Genji hears Peacekeeper click behind him. He has a second to parse McCree’s intentions before McCree pulls the lever and Meka’s front window goes flying off again. All at once, the Talon soldiers in front of them swivel their rifles at the opening.

McCree aims over Genji’s shoulder, arm pressing to the side of Genji’s helmet before he fires off all six rounds before Genji swerves Meka away to avoid the returning shots—though he suspects the Talon soldiers might’ve been too shocked to do much else.

He checks the rearview screen, unsurprised to see six unmoving bodies on the ground. McCree’s aim is more familiar than Meka’s weapons, and Genji is happy to work with it. A breath of laughter escapes from him, frustration ebbing away.

“I very much want to tie you up and strap you to the cannons now,” Genji says, rolling his shoulders back. McCree’s arm bumps against the side of his head again, unsteady for the moment when the cowboy draws back his gun.

“Later,” McCree says, reloading. “And not to the cannons.”

“Hm,” Genji says, thoughtful, and turns the Meka around to let McCree take down the rest of Talon.

 

* * *

 

 

As enjoyable as piloting Meka around using McCree as their primary source of artillery, Genji is wholly relieved when D.Va appears on one of the higher levels of a storage building. Her signal flare bursts into a pastel pink cloud of smoke, revealing her position on the metal support beam above. McCree is the first one to spot her while he sends another round of shots at the last of the Talon forces. He pulls the infamous lever again and the front windshield closes.

Genji flies up to meet D.Va, sticking the landing on the wide beam with relative ease; he’s had so much practice now, and D.Va’s position is a good one, too high to get shot at for the moment. Even if Talon decides to climb up after them, they’ll have a few minutes to switch pilots and come up with a plan while Talon regroups.

As soon as Meka rumbles to a halt, Genji lets go of the controls and slumps over the console. He exhales, slow and steadying. If he had real flesh hands, no doubt they would have been sweaty and cramped.

McCree slides out of the cockpit first, looking a little worse for wear and just as relieved see D.Va rushing over to them from the neighboring platform. Genji jumps down after him, glancing at Meka and wincing at its ruined state. Battle-damaged is the least offensive description he would’ve used.

“So I was watching the whole thing and—well, are you two willing to take some criticisms?” D.Va asks by way of greeting. She looks a bit disheveled herself, Bunny Blaster in hand as she stares at them in disbelief.

Genji looks at Meka again. One of the bunny-shaped antennas is on the verge of falling off. It does, as if his mere glance had specifically triggered it. He looks back at D.Va, ignoring the metal clattering to the ground. “Was I that bad? Did you cry?”

“Honestly? A little,” D.Va says, but she shakes her head. The corner of her mouth crooks into a rueful grin. “But that was sick as hell. Kinda stupid though, McCree.”

McCree shrugs, smirking as he does. “Ain’t stupid if it works, kid.”

“Kid? I outrank you,” D.Va retorts, but she holds up her fist for a congraduatory fistbump.

“Ma’am,” McCree amends, touching the brim of his hat before he knocks his fist against hers.

They don’t leave Genji out either, but the base is still buzzing with movement. The three of them duck around Meka, keeping out of sight beneath the mecha’s hull. D.Va takes a moment to inspect the chassis, not saying anything about Genji’s work. Genji starts to believe D.Va is more polite than he gives her credit for.

“Just had a random thought here,” McCree says, frowning. “There’s not going to be enough room for all three of us.”

“You can walk,” Genji suggests.

“ _You_ can ride outside. With your sticky feet.”

“Don’t call them that. _You’re_ the bigger one.”

“No need for any of that,” D.Va interrupts, pushing past them.

For a moment, Genji is afraid that D.Va would simply leave the both of them behind. Judging from McCree’s wary expression, he is thinking the same. They both put a hand on one of Meka’s leg, just in case.

D.Va opens the back hatch, slipping in with much more grace than what Genji could ever do.

“Ugh. Smells gross in here,” she says, muffled. “McCree, did you smoke in my Meka?”

“Nah. I just naturally smell like a tire fire.”

Genji nudges him with an elbow. “I don’t mind it.”

McCree puts a hand over his heart, touched, and ruins the moment by winking. Genji is charmed anyway.

“You breathe through a filter, of course you don’t mind it,” D.Va says, climbing back out. She flips her long hair from her face, hands going to her hips in chipper triumph. “Okay! We’re ready to go.”

The inside of the cockpit is glowing green. There is a beeping noise. Genji frowns.

“You boys going to help me push, or what?” D.Va continues, giving Meka’s chassis a smack. The mech creaks alarmingly. “She’s gonna self-destruct soon.”

McCree blinks. “You’re blowing it up?”

“Well, yeah. Genji trashed it pretty good. I’m surprised it didn’t blow itself up to put it out of it’s own misery,” D.Va says. She pushes the mecha. “Besides, if we bomb the GPS scrambler, you guys can call Tracer and I can call another Meka, easy.”

McCree whistles, joining in with Genji to help her push Meka. “I’m liking your style, ma’am.”

“Thanks, cowboy!”

“You should take some advice from her about style,” Genji adds, and gets a faceful of McCree’s elbow for the comment.

He doesn’t know if Meka has a neutral gear, but with their combined strength, it takes a stumbling step forward off the edge of the platform. He sneaks in one last look as Meka falls to the ground, hopefully taking a few Talon soldiers with it.

“Is it strange to feel a little sad?” he asks, half-joking.

“Feel free to jump after it, if you want!” D.Va says, running away.

McCree yanks on his arm, not giving him the chance to do anything but sprint off after him and D.Va.

The explosion below is huge and brilliant, sending the entire building shaking on its foundations. McCree stumbles, colliding into Genji, and D.Va times her steps perfectly to skip over the rumbling. The signals in Genji’s HUD flicker with new reconnections, Lena’s channel included.

D.Va presses the button strapped to her wrist—once, then twice—and from the sky a brand new Meka lands right in front of her. She jumps in with an excited whoop, and Genji abruptly finds it difficult to be sad about anything.

“And now,” D.Va announces, turning to them, “What’s this about my cannons not being accurate?”

“Ah,” Genji begins.

“Erm,” says McCree.

D.Va smirks.

 

* * *

 

 

Back at Overwatch base, Winston rubs his temples. Genji notices there is a new streak of gray in his fur.

“So the Korean government just called,” Winston says.

“Genji’s not allowed to pilot Meka anymore.” D.Va sighs, sounding crestfallen. “And they won’t let me use McCree as a cannon replacement either.”

Genji slumps against McCree as McCree shuts his eyes in equal relief.

“Thank god,” they both say.


End file.
